"Keep your heads down and shields up lads. Remember we are using First Legion doctrine under the Captain's orders. In another ten feet we charge as one, a solid wall of adamantium and ceramite to smash Fourth Claw." Almost immediately after Brother Kaelic fell to the ground, his armor shutting down as he was struck squarely with a training bolt. The thud of the crumpling Astartes sounded the same as if the Legionaire to his left had truly been struck down. Tyberus' reaction was exactly the same as if it had been actual combat, nonchalant, not so much as a glance to the fallen warrior. He nearly laughed under his helmet at the constant drilling. There had yet to be any truly decisive engagements and he wondered how much of that was because so much of their time was spent drilling for combat as opposed to actively engaging in it. They could harry supply ships, wreak havoc on the supporting Imperial Guard Fleet that surely had to roam the near reaches of space in this sector that sought to aid the First Legion. There was little time to truly think on how much of a waste these exercises had truly become.

Their shields are overlapping, marching in unison down the simulated corridors. The doctrine of First Legion was somewhat sound, but predictable and easy to defend against. Tyberus did not particularly care for the tactics they had to embody, he did not enjoy the confined and unadaptable style with which he was forced to fight. Were it his choice he would have split this squad into two squads of five. Smaller fire teams would result in faster movement through confined spaces as well as provide opportunity for flanking enemy positions located throughout an actual ship.

He knew it had been Corvis that had been stationed in the hallway ahead. In real combat, it would have been the station of the Astartes with the least combat experience to take the easiest assignment. Here, they were merely marching straight ahead in a bottlenecked corridor with no choice but to advance forward. Still, when they finally did reach the line, he decided he would batter the youngster around in melee and give him a taste of how ship to ship combat would really go. Third Claw would break through soon it seemed, though he could not see up ahead, his view blocked by a wall of ceramite plated Astartes in front of him, the hardened and grizzled breachers of Third Claw would likely overtake any dug in position quickly once they reached them. He rather liked most of the Brothers in the Third Claw, they were more akin to himself it seemed, by the very nature of their specific skillset, they seemed to prefer the more direct route of getting to their target and smashing it into pieces.

Tyberus grip tightened around his power maul, his storm bolter was mag locked at his hip, his massive boarding shield locked to his left forearm so he could hold his weapon with both hands while still having his shield in position. Practice rounds continued to ping off the amassed wall of boarding shields as they waded forward as one wave that would eventually crash into the enemy line. I'm going to rip your throats out and smash your eyes through the backs of your skulls you little measly bastards Tyberus mused to himself. It was a drill, but thus far, the Captain had encouraged a certain amount of 'authenticity' to the proceedings. In the two previous exercises Tyberus had needed to be physically pulled off of a Battle Brother from a reserve company having sought to teach him a lesson about fighting properly when Tyberus felt the position had been lost far too easily by the Brother on the opposing side of the drill.